Red Hood and the Assassin
by bloodlustvalentine
Summary: Never in a million years would anyone dare to kill the infamous Red Hood. That is, unless they're hired to.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own ANY characters. They all belong to DC.**

* * *

**Prologue**

Jason aimed the sniper rifle into the window from the tree he took refuge in. He pointed it at the mobster's head, his hand on the trigger. He had killed countless times before and this time was no different. However, these men were out to kill the anti-hero before he got to them. He had managed to outsmart the thugs surrounding the building, but he knew that at any minute, he could be spotted.

Of course, he could have killed the guards, but he decided against it. He didn't want to blow his cover, and the sound of gunshots would definitely blow his cover. Besides, getting past them was easy enough. He was accustomed to running around in the dark. The vision optics in his mask made it easier to stay hidden.

Pulling back the trigger, a strange feeling came over him. Was it guilt? No, he never felt that. He didn't feel guilty about killing anyone that put lives in danger. Nor did he actually care about the well-being of Gotham's citizens. He just didn't take kindly to anyone that took advantage of the weak and clueless.

He gently sighed as he put down the rifle. Something in his gut told him that tonight would not be the night for killing the mobster. He took the rifle apart and put it into his backpack, careful not to make too much noise in the tree he was sitting in.

He sat, watching the henchmen coming into the office one after the other. If he couldn't kill anyone, he could at least stay around and listen to why there were congregating at such an odd time during the night. However, he meeting was uninformative. Jason found himself almost falling asleep after about half an hour. The only thing that jolted him awake was when he heard his name.

He sprung up, ready to leap higher into the tree, hoping to make an escape. That was when he realized that no one had even noticed him perching in the tree. They clearly hadn't noticed him because they were still in the same positions they were in before he had dozed off.

_You're just being paranoid, _he thought to himself. _They didn't even see you._

He slowly sat down again. He should have gone home by now, but he was going to wait until the meeting was over. He still had no idea what they were talking about. He could hear them clearly through the open window, but wasn't interested in what the bald and unintelligent men had to say.

Another half hour passed when he heard his name again. This time, it was coming from inside the room. He tried to focus in on the voices, but found it hard as the wind was blowing and rattling the leaves in the tree he sat in.

He gave an annoyed grunt and climbed up the tree, jumping onto the top of the building. Whatever they were saying, it couldn't have been important if they didn't immediately send someone out to find him. He'd just come back tomorrow to make the kill.

Right now, he was going home. Probably to play Call of Duty, or to sleep. Whichever was more appealing to him once he got home.

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**Just a prologue. The actual chapters will be longer.**


	2. The Story Begins

**Again, I don't own any DC characters. The two OCs belong to me, though I don't think they'll show up in this chapter. We'll see. Wrote this as I listened to the Gorillaz Demon Days album. It inspires me in the strangest of ways. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Also, no offense to any people of Romanian descent. I just tried to write as Jason would describe things.**

* * *

Jason groaned as the phone rang, waking him from his deep sleep. He looked over at the nightstand. Six A.M. He had only fallen asleep five hours ago after coming home from a failed robbery attempt. He scowled as he remembered the police showing up and shooting at him. He had barely gotten away with minimal gunshot wounds. Nothing he couldn't take care of himself. He let the phone go to voicemail. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning.

As he was drifting back to sleep, the phone rang again. This time, he threw off the blankets he was laying under and angrily answered the phone.

"What?" he snapped. Jason was not a morning person, as anyone could guess. If he had something to do before noon, he would put it off until the next day. To Jason, nothing was more important or enticing than sleep.

"Whoa, dude. Calm down," said the voice on the other line. Jason instantly recognized it as that of Roy Harper. Roy was an ally of Jason's, but barely considered him that. He wasn't the type of person to rely on anyone for help. He was capable of doing everything alone.

"Sorry. What do you want?" Jason asked. Roy _never _called Jason unless he was in need of his help. Jason rolled his eyes at that thought. What would he have to help Roy with this time?

"Remember Ruskova?"

"Who?"

"Ivan Ruskova. The mob boss you were hunting a few months ago?"

Jason closed his eyes, attempting to remember the name. This name in particular didn't ring a bell. All mob bosses have strange Russian names.

"I don't know who you're talking about." Jason replied.

Jason could practically sense Roy rolling his eyes over the phone before he scoffed.

"The guy that hired Cobzaru to kill you." Roy said.

Jason almost laughed. How could he not remember Cobzaru? The idiot gypsy with a bad aim. He was young and had a thick Romanian accent. He had shot at Jason several times, missing him by mere inches each time. When Jason had finally caught up to him, the boy had tried to run. He hit Jason with his gun, which only angered him. Jason beat him within an inch of his life, leaving him alive only to suffer before stealing his wallet. It was cruel, but it taught him a lesson. Jason never heard from Cobzaru after that incident.

"I remember Ruskova now," Jason finally said. "Why are you calling about him?"

"I heard he hired another loon to come after you."

"Hopefully one that can actually shoot and _not _miss."

"I just wanted to warn you," Roy continued. "I know how many people want you dead."

"Look, it's nice that you care, but I can take care of myself."

"I know that. But I don't want to see you dead. How else am I going to get myself out of trouble?"

Jason shook his head at the statement.

"Whatever. I'm going back to sleep." Jason said as he hung up the phone and placed it back on the nightstand.

* * *

Dick Grayson stood atop Jason's apartment building in his Nightwing getup. Though reluctant to admit it, Dick truly cared about Jason.

He sat down on the edge of the roof. He technically wasn't even supposed to be on patrol tonight, but he found it hard to stay off the crime-ridden streets of Gotham City. It was also easier to keep an eye on Jason.

Nightwing battled with his guilty conscience each night. He _should _turn Red Hood in because it was the right thing to do. But at the same time, he felt bad when he thought about turning his little brother in to the authorities. Had Batman found out that Nightwing was keeping Red Hood safe, he would have some serious explaining to do.

The acrobat shook his head, trying to release the thoughts from his mind. Tonight, he'd only protect Jason, just as he had the night before and the night before that. He was only doing his job. Protecting the citizens of Gotham City. Was it really so bad if Red Hood killed the bad guys?

_Yes, Dick,_ he thought to himself._ Murder is murder, no matter the reasoning._

Nightwing's ear communicator buzzed and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Nightwing. Where are you?" Barbara Gordon asked.

"I had to get some air. I decided to patrol tonight."

"Bruce needs to talk to you. He says he needs you home as soon as possible."

Dick's heart sank. Bruce was always trying to get Dick out of the house, why would he want to speak with him?

He climbed down from the building and made his way home.

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**Author's note.. Or notes: I tried to make this chapter longer, but it ended up merging into two. I think I'll post part two tomorrow. I really hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always welcome. I will try to update every Saturday night.**


	3. Chapter 3

After hesitantly standing outside of Bruce's study, Dick finally mustered up some courage and quietly walked into the room. For a still unknown reason, Bruce had requested to see Dick in person. That was enough of a reason to make _anyone _anxious.

"What took you so long to get here?" Bruce asked, not looking up from the paperwork stacked in a neat pile in front of him. Dick tilted his head. He never understood how Bruce could tell who was entering the room without so much as a glance.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked.

"I wasn't expecting anyone else."

"I could have been Alfred for all you know."

"You have a lighter footstep than Alfred does."

Dick rolled his eyes and sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Bruce's desk. Even as a young child, Dick never understood the point of the two chairs. Bruce never held meetings with just two people. Those meetings were always held in the manor's conference room. After a few years, Dick just accepted the fact that he would never know the purpose of the two mysterious chairs.

"You didn't answer my question," Bruce said, still focused on his work.

"Traffic," Dick replied. "What do people do on Thursday nights anyway?"

"You'd be surprised at how many people start Memorial Day weekend early."

"I guess," Dick said as he looked at his phone.

After a few minutes, Dick remembered that he was in Bruce's office for a reason. He cleared his throat, hoping to get his father's attention. Bruce didn't look up from his paperwork. At first, Dick just figured that Bruce was working on something that would only take a few more minutes. When it became apparent that he was being ignored, Dick tried to get Bruce's attention again.

"_Another day, another fight,_" Dick sang. "_It always feels like an uphi_-" he was abruptly cut off when he was pelted with a sticky note pad._  
_

"You have my attention," Bruce said. "What?"

Dick stared at Bruce in surprise, mostly because he was fairly certain that _Bruce _was the one that wanted to meet with _him__._

"Barbara told me that you wanted to see me me about something," he replied. "Unless I just horribly misunderstood her."

"I was expecting you here an hour ago. You walked in here on my time."

"There was a ton of traffic. What was I supposed to do?"

"Calling is always an option."

Dick rolled his eyes in frustration. He could have been hit by a bus and it wouldn't have made a difference to Bruce.

Bruce shook his head and closed the folders in front of him. He turned to face his eldest son.

"I want you to stay off the streets for a while."

It took a few seconds for Dick's mind to register what Bruce was telling him.

_No patrolling?_

"Huh?" was the only response Dick could mutter.

"I received news of an impending gang war in Crime Alley this morning."

"Are you trying to say I can't handle it?" Dick replied, suddenly angry. How could Bruce tell him what to do? He didn't even live in the manor anymore!

"I didn't say that. I want to keep you out of it for Damian's sake."

"What does he have to do with this?"

"I already told him it's nothing he should occupy himself with," Bruce began. "It he finds out that I'm letting you investigate too, he'll be even more adamant about going."

Dick leaned back in the chair, going over the situation in his head. Although the young brat annoyed him, Dick loved Damian. He would have hated to ever see him get hurt.

"Well?" Bruce asked.

Dick nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Jason groaned as he hoisted himself up onto the old, rickety fire escape. The metal rattled under his weight and he mentally cursed at himself for being less than stealthy. He climbed up another floor before reaching his destination.

Quietly, he opened the old window and let himself into the apartment. A familiar shadow darted across the room and headed towards the room at the end of the hallway.

"Stupid cat," Jason muttered to himself as he headed for his friend's kitchen.

A few seconds later, a dark zombie-like figure padded its way into the living room.

"You could have knocked," Roy Harper murmured as he threw himself on the couch and turned on the television.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"I could have killed you if I thought you were in an intruder."

"You and I both know that you're not afraid of a scummy cat burglar," Jason replied as he continued to rummage through the refrigerator.

"You know it's pointless to look through my fridge," Roy said. "I never have any actually edible food."

Jason closed the refrigerator door and walked back into the living room, taking a seat in Roy's recliner.

"I swear, I don't know how you live," Jason thought aloud. "It's like you survive on whatever the cat drops at your door."

Roy smiled and reached to pet his trusty companion, and old tabby cat he called Aslan. He rescued the animal months ago after finding him tied up to a wired fence. The cat followed Roy home and the two were inseparable ever since.

Jason shook his head in disgust. He had always hated cats. Or furry animals in general.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do about Ruskova?" Roy asked.

"I'm not worried about him," Jason replied. "If he did actually hire someone, I would have seen them by now."

"Maybe he's taking a different approach. He's been after you for a few years now."

"Either way, I'm not going to waste time wondering when he's going to get me."

"I don't know how you do it."

"I'm not a paranoid bitch."

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**Author's notes: I totally loved that very last line. I'm so sorry this took so long to get up. I trashed the chapter I had written and started over. I'm very pleased with the result of the rewrite. I'll try to keep updates regular. Thanks for reading. Look forward to Saturday for the next chapter!**

**-bloodlustvalentine**


	4. Chapter 4

The youngest member of the Wayne family noiselessly crept into the most recently made off-limits part of the manor - the Batcave.

The harsh cracks of thunder made it difficult for him to sleep and he was restless. He stopped at the entrance of the cave and made sure the coast was clear before he walked over to the computer. He sat in the large chair and began to pull up Batman's latest case files. Whereas most kids had their parents read bedtime stories to them, Damian Wayne preferred to read about the Gotham Police Department's current investigations.

"What are you doing down here, Damian?"

The eleven-year-old froze, but didn't look back at the voice that he recognized as Dick's. Instead, he tried to figure out how Dick could have sneaked up on him like that. "I couldn't sleep."

"You're not supposed to be in here," Dick said as he stood behind the chair Damian was sitting in and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. Damian tried shrugging them away.

"Does father think we're not _capable_?" he paused for a second to gather his thoughts. "I suppose I can see where he might not trust _you_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're reckless."

"You're one to talk about being reckless," Dick replied. He looked up at the screen in front of him and Damian. He was almost shocked to see the number of case files that had gathered since he, Damian, and Tim were off duty. The last few weeks had not been easy for the family. With nothing to do in their spare time, they had tried to come up with solutions to save them from boredom. Bruce, however, had buried himself in work and now spent an astounding amount of hours at the office. And when he was home, he hurried to the Batcave and left for the city as Batman.

Damian would never confess to it, but Dick knew that he was feeling severely neglected lately. With nothing to keep him occupied, Damian had resorted to spending all his time in his bedroom with his beloved Great Dane.

"Do you wanna go for a quick patrol?" Dick asked. He regretted saying it instantly, but there was no backing out now. He wouldn't have Damian thinking that he was all talk and no action.

"Are you crazy?"

"That's not on subject," Dick replied sarcastically.

Damian pointed his nose into the air as he crossed his arms. "We'll get in trouble."

"We can't get in trouble if no one finds out."

"Father _always _finds out."

"Not if you don't say anything."

Damian huffed, but didn't say anything. He went over the offer in his head. On one hand, he always had a little more freedom when he safeguarded the city with Nightwing. And if Bruce found out, he would probably be lenient in his punishment. After all, Bruce knew that Damian would have been influenced by Dick.

"Very well," Damian replied. "I'll go."

* * *

"Dami-"

"No names in the field!" Robin yelled over the sound of the wind roaring in his ears as he and Nightwing raced through the grim streets of the city on the back of a motorcycle."

Nightwing rolled his eyes and tried again. "_Robin_, can you please loosen your grip?"

Robin had his arms clenched over Nightwing's torso in an attempt to keep from falling off the bike every time they turned a corner. It wasn't that he was afraid, he just didn't trust Nightwing and situations like this almost always made him lose all sense of assurance.

The boy ignored his brother's request and chose to hold on tighter instead.

Nightwing parked the bike in his usual spot behind an old trailer park. As soon as he turned it off, Robin practically flew off the machine and smoothed out the gathered wrinkles on his suit. Nightwing pulled up the top part of his suit to inspect the damage that Robin's nails had left on his rib cage. "You left claw marks..."

Robin narrowed his eyes at Nightwing, but said nothing. Instead, he took off running to pursue whatever crime was brewing in Gotham.

Nightwing followed behind him from a distance. He knew Robin liked to do things alone, but he couldn't help but worry when the boy went off on his own.

_Oh, God, _he thought to himself. _I'm turning into Bruce_._  
_

He shook his head at the image of himself in a suit sitting in front of a desk all day.

In all honesty, Dick would have rather been taking a nap on the couch than tracking criminals. He knew that midterms were coming up soon and he _should _have been studying instead of possibly getting Damian in trouble.

Nightwing sighed and looked around for Robin, fully knowing that he had left his sight almost five minutes ago. No matter how hard he tried to keep an eye on him, Robin was always able to slip away for at least an hour to do whatever it was that he did when he wasn't beating information out of someone or kicking in the windows of abandoned houses.

He climbed to the top of the Royal Hotel and sat down on a ledge away from any of the windows. If he couldn't find Robin, he'd just have to wait until he came looking for Nightwing.

* * *

"This night was disappointing - to say the least," Robin mumbled when he finally caught up to Nightwing. "It's like the weather scared off the criminals."

"You didn't find _anything _worth investigating?" Nightwing asked. Robin shook his head and then snapped up to look at Nightwing.

"There was a fire on Beacon Drive," he said. "We didn't get there in time, but the fire chief said it was probably arson."

"Beacon Drive, huh? What building?" he asked. He seemed calm on the outside, but he knew that Jason was currently living on Beacon Drive. His heart raced a little and he tried to keep his hands still.

"Colonial Terrace. The one with the disgustingly colored walls."

Nightwing nodded. Not Jason's apartment, but incredibly close. He would have to call Jason as soon as he got home.

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**Author's notes: There it is! Chapter four, I believe. I'm sorry it's so bad. The next one is a ton better, I promise. There's action - And Roy Harper! A little late due to circumstances out of my control. You won't have to wait that long for the next one. Feel free (by that, I mean obligated) to leave a review. They make me really happy. Question: Has anyone listened to the latest Fall Out Boy album? I bought it recently and I'm fairly certain it's all about Red Hood and the Outlaws.**

**-bloodlustvalentine**


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